


Why You Gotta Be So Rude?

by thursdaysfallenangel



Series: The Real Life Adventures of Misha and Jensen [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, mean things said about misha, protective!jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdaysfallenangel/pseuds/thursdaysfallenangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen always understood GISHWHES to be a good thing, and he doesn't even pay attention to it. So why don't other people who don't pay attention to it think the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why You Gotta Be So Rude?

Jensen checks the title of the article he’s reading again. Scrolls down to the comments. Scrolls back up to the header.

Misha Collins asks writers to work for free, gets ass handed to him.

This is why Jensen avoids the internet.

Did this guy even know what GISHWHES was? Obviously not, and honestly Jensen doesn’t really know either (there’s kale, right? And possibly a rat thing). Hell, he doesn’t even know what it stands for. But he knows it’s about bringing some good into the world, because that’s Misha’s god damn schtick.

This reporter, in Jensen’s mind, has now officially become An Asshole. Jensen does not like Assholes. Assholes are dicks to his friends.

“You reading up on me, Jen-Jen?”

Jensen quickly slams his laptop shut. They’ve only been back on set a few weeks, and he finds the easiest place to hide is out in the open, in his director’s chair. Usually when they go looking for him, they head straight to his trailer, so he’s learned to find the last place anybody will look.

Not Misha.

“I told you not to call me that,” Jensen grumbles. He’s a little embarrassed to have been caught reading a trashy article about someone he knows.

“You love that nickname, don’t play coy.” Misha plops down in Jared’s chair next to him, leans over and swipes a grape sitting on the plate beside Jensen. His trench coat brushes against Jensen’s face, and he swats him back.

“Get offa me. Didn’t your mama teach you any manners?”

“She taught me to always go for what I want,” Misha grins openly before popping the grape in his mouth. Jensen tries not to stare. “So, what am I today? A snake oil merchant again? Ohhh, have I finally been called a whackadoo? Misha Collins, Whackadoo. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? I might make up business cards.”

“Just some joker pissed about your scavenger thing,” Jensen shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Like he’s not so angry he could hit something.

“Oh, another one,” Misha shrugs back at him.

“What? Another one?”

“They exist,” Misha laughs. “Some people don’t like it.”

“But…what?” Jensen sputters. “It’s all about doing good, and making shit and…and shit!”

“And shit,” Misha repeats, eyes twinkling. “As I seem to recall, you’re one of the ones adverse to this shit, particularly when it’s your face being made out of edible foodstuffs.”

"I don’t actually _care_ ,” Jensen says, and woah, he feels himself getting worked up, something so rare he notices it happening almost instantly. “Don’t these dicks care that you’re making the world a better place?”

Misha’s laughing almost uncontrollably now, and Jensen has no idea why. “I think you’re overestimating my influence.”

Jensen growls. Because is. He. Serious.

Misha sobers almost immediately, looking at Jensen curiously. “Look, Jen,” he says finally, “If I’m really spreading kindness like I want to, it’s the little things, you know? Sure, big donations are awesome, and getting four hundred people to visit senior citizens is great, but I really just want people to just…to just treat people right. If I’ve done my job, and if a small lesson has been learned, then it doesn’t matter what anybody else has to say about it.”

Jensen stares at him, lips pursed. “You do your job, Misha.”

Misha, weird guy that he is, looks away for a long moment. Jensen is about to ask if he’s okay when he turns back and leans forward, until their noses are brushing. “Sure am,” he says quietly. “One random act of kindness at a time.”


End file.
